


Company

by aruarudayo



Series: Seen This Before [3]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Insomnia, M/M, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-20
Updated: 2014-08-20
Packaged: 2018-02-14 00:57:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2171850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aruarudayo/pseuds/aruarudayo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Accelerated Coming of Age Trope: Dave and Karkat bond over something, anything, that makes readers realize just how much they've grown since the beginning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Company

**Author's Note:**

> prompt from fish_princess@dreamwidth

Dave knows that Karkat can’t sleep. From what he gathered from the other trolls, Karkat barely slept after they entered the Medium, too busy trying to corral his eleven friends so they could at least avoid a doomed timeline. Now, they have nothing to do except sit on their asses on a giant space rock for three years, yet sleep still eludes him.

Karkat knows that Dave can’t sleep. The human always seems wired, unable to sit still, and that seems to extend to late hours when the whole meteor is quiet. Terezi says that Dave seemed to be constantly on the move in every one of his timelines, and she could only recall a handful of timelines where he actually stopped for some shut-eye.

It’s no wonder that they run into each other in a basement, while everyone else is asleep. 

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“’Sup.”

They both pause a moment. Karkat’s voice is close to a whisper, and Dave’s simply sounds mechanical. 

“Finally tired of speaking in all caps?”

“Finally tired of speaking pretentious douchebag?”

They’re both better at reading other people now. Dave is the one that voices the underlying issue. 

“So you can’t sleep either.” 

Karkat flinches, the dark circles around his eyes giving him a haunted look in the dim lighting. Dave pushes his glasses to the top of his head to rub his eyes. His reflection in the troll’s eyes looks strikingly similar to the figure before him. He leaves his glasses off his face, too tired to care about irony or eye color.

Besides, this is Karkat.

They both continue to stare, conversation passing between them without being voiced. They’ve been observing each other for weeks, curious about their kindred spirit.

Dave has been mumbling recently. Karkat strains to hear every time. The majority is made up of random thoughts on the current situation, but some have time stamps that Dave needs to keep straight. He looks so lost sometimes, no recognition in his eyes the few times he’s having an episode with his glasses off. But keeping them straight means remembering. Karkat wishes he could still call him naïve, but if anything, he’s too aware of what’s going on and it keeps him up, keeps him agitated unless he’s doing something, anything, rather than thinking.

Karkat cares too much. Dave wants him to care less, unused to someone mothering him and noticing him like Bro never did. Karkat had trouble forming relationships with others when he was younger, and now that he has them, he has no desire to let them go. But he’s seen so many die, despite doing everything in his power to stop it, and their bodies flash before him every time he blinks. So Dave can feel how tight Karkat holds onto what he has left, even if it means sacrificing sleep. He keeps vigil so he knows they are safe, so he can “sleep better.” 

“Do you want company?” they both ask simultaneously. 

Laughter bubbles up between them, Dave’s light and a little crackly around the edges after his voice changed, Karkat’s breathy and a little hoarse from forcing his voice louder during the waking hours. Neither is mirthful, just relieved.

They fall into step easily, finding the nearest room with a suitable enough pile of cushy things to lay on, and they wonder when the nightmares will stop, when they’ll be able to sleep alone without being painfully aware of the passage of time or the loneliness. The tiredness won’t go away, regardless.

For now though, being in each other’s arms is enough.


End file.
